


Take My Breath Away

by JesusCheese



Category: ATEEZ (Band), TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Asthma, Bullying, Coming of Age, Crying, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26517937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JesusCheese/pseuds/JesusCheese
Summary: "I like you, Wooyoung. I'll go anywhere you go."Yeosang has asthma, and Wooyoung has no idea why he's the one so breathless.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 100





	Take My Breath Away

**Author's Note:**

> I've been doing a bit of research into Ateez lately, and I saw that Yeosang and Wooyoung were actually Bighit trainees and that Yeonjun is Wooyoung's close friend. Also, I've been studying medical conditions for my nursing classes, and well- it was too good of a combination to pass up.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The first time Wooyoung ever sets eyes on the skinny black-haired boy, he’s got his back against a wall and eyes on the floor as a group of other boys stare him down with disgust in their eyes. The boy was terrified, he was trapped, and he was the last thing that Wooyoung wanted to see on his way to his dorm. 

They’re older trainees, that much is obvious- Wooyoung can recognize a few of their faces from his audition. He'd always avoided them after getting a bad feeling, choosing instead to befriend the more experienced trainees...well, one more experienced trainee.

“Eat it, Yeosang,” one of them- a tall, thick boy with closely cropped hair jeered, pointing his sausage finger at the bowl that the skinny one- Yeosang- was holding. It looked disgusting, full of about twenty different drinks and food items all mushed together. Wooyoung doubted that all of them were entirely edible.

“Yeosang, you’ve got three seconds to eat it before I force it down your throat,” he growled when the bullied boy began to wheeze and tremble. “Eat it!”

Wooyoung took five strides over, took it out of Yeosang’s shaking hands, and tipped it on the skin-head’s shirt, sending it dripping to the floor. “Wear it, asshole.” He turned to Yeosang. “Get lost.”

He did, scampering away with his bag in hand, and Wooyoung let the skin-head and his friends yell at him. They were too afraid to do anything to him, and everybody knew it. It was easy to pick on the new trainees. It made him weak.

Wooyoung was not a hero, and he wasn’t a ‘people person’, but he certainly wouldn’t take advantage of those weaker than him.

He was better than that.

…

“A- are you Jong Wooyoung?”

“Jung Wooyoung,” he corrected, looking up from his shoelaces to meet the skinny boy’s eyes. They were wide with anticipation, his shoulders set deliberately- the kind of shoulders a person dawned when they were gathering confidence to complete a terrifying task...a task like approaching the 'almighty Jung Wooyoung'. Yeosang was intimidated and doing his damnedest to hide it. Wooyoung respected that, despite how much the idea of having a lost puppy at his heels disgusted him. “You that kid who couldn’t stand up to the trainees in the hallway yesterday?”

“Yes.” It was at that moment that Wooyoung realized Yeosang was a softie. He'd never make it as an idol. He looked ready to cry. It made Wooyoung’s heart snap in two. He didn't need to protect this guy; he didn't even want to be associated with him, lest the general population think that they shared the same weak hearts. Regardless, he was touched. He moved his bag closer to the wall and looked pointedly at the space next to him.

“Stretch with me, if you’ve got nobody else to do it with.”

“You mean it?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t,” he grumbled, looking away. "Stretch or leave me alone."

Yeosang smiled and set his own bag down, pulling his arm across his chest and wincing. He looked so frail. Could he really be a trainee? Obviously he had to have some talent to be there, but...Wooyoung couldn't tell. “My name’s Yeosang,” he introduced himself. “I arrived here about six months ago, and I was born in 1999.”

Wooyoung hummed, pulling his leg to feel the burn in his hamstring. He always loved that feeling. “What month?”

“June.”

This guy was really older than him? How? How in the hell was Kang Yeosang older than him? Wooyoung hummed in surprise. “You’re a few months older than me, Yeosang." Older people deserve respect. God, Wooyoung could not believe that he had to talk formally to such an unthreatening being. It was like bowing to a bunny rabbit. "Can I call you Yeosang?”

“I think you’ve earned the right to call me whatever you’d like, Wooyoung.”

“Well..don’t go thinking of me as a savior just because I poured muck down that guy’s shirt. It’s been a long time coming for him.”

Yeosang reached into the side pocket of his red backpack and pulled out an inhaler, shaking and puffing some of it into his mouth with an exaggerated hiss. Wooyoung watched with interest. A trainee with asthma? That was about as unlucky as it could get for an idol. The air quality sucked, the work was hard, and sickness ran rampant.

“Sorry,” Yeosang said meekly as he put it away. “I have to do it so I can...well, breathe.”

“Whatever,” Wooyoung shrugged, deepening his stretch and focusing on the practice before them- the practice that he’d been practicing for the previous night, sweating until nearly two in the morning. He needed to debut, he needed to debut, he needed to debut.

Nothing else mattered.

…

“Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung turned at the call of his name and smiled at his friend, letting himself get wrapped up in his hug. It had been a long while since Yeonjun had even cast him a second glance. “You’re busy, Yeonjun.”

“Yeah, sorry man...lots of stuff to do in preparation for debut.” His face crumpled awkwardly. “Sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault the company thinks I’m shit.”

“Hey that’s not it!” Yeonjun protested. “You’ll get the next project, I swear.”

“You do know that there’s six years in between BTS and your group, right? Chances are ass that I’m debuting soon, so...save your positivity for a new trainee, somebody dumb enough to believe you.”

“You didn’t used to be so depressing, Woo.”

“I used to have potential, Jun.”

“H-hey, Wooyoung?”

Yeonjun glanced over his shoulder at the same time as Wooyoung. “New friend?”

“Somebody’s got to replace you.”

“Impossible,” Yeonjun chuckled, peeling himself from his friend to greet the new guy with a warm handshake. “Hi, I’m Choi Yeonjun, Wooyoung’s former friend.”

“Kang Yeosang.”

“You two train together, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Wooyoung answered for Yeosang. “In fact, we’re on our way to physical training, so unless you wanted to tag along, I suggest you run along with all of your new friends.”

Yeonjun sighed, and wrapped Wooyoung in another hug before leaving. “I know you’re sad about it, but something good will happen for you. I know it. It may not be now, and it may not be here, but you’re made for success, Jung Wooyoung. I’ll text you later.”

“See you then.”

“Bye Wooyoung, bye Yeosang. It was nice meeting you.”

“You too.”

…

Yeosang’s not nonathletic. His lungs are just pure crap. Wooyoung doesn’t quite understand it- and, if he was being honest- he was grateful for it, but Yeosang just had less pulmonary endurance and strength. Put in more simple terms, bad air made him not breathe, laughing too hard made him not breathe, exercise made him not breath...just about anything that required him to breathe caused him not to, in excessive amounts.

And despite knowing that, Yeosang still pushed himself to the point of a stuttering chest, bending over his knees as he clumsily fished for the one thing keeping him alive in the side pocket of his red backpack.

It happened the same way every time. Exertion, a slight wheeze, stuttering patterns, full blown hyperventilation, a completely closed throat. He could see it, and Yeosang either couldn’t or chose to ignore it.

“Yeosang,” he called out as they were running. Yeosang was in the ‘slight wheeze stage’. “Take thirty seconds and a drink. Your lungs suck.”

“My lungs always suck,” he protested, continuing his run.

Wooyoung physically stopped him, hands on his shoulders. “Then slow down.”

Yeosang smiled abashedly, running a hand through his hair. He was so stubborn until he realized that the other person was right. Then, it was apology after apology, even when it was unnecessary (especially when it was unnecessary). “Sorry, Wooyoung.”

“Don’t say sorry, just slow down.”

…

“Hey, I’ve got an appointment today at three, but I’ll head over afterwards to study and we can get dinner after, okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good. You’ve got your bag?”

“As always.”

“Alright, see you later, Yeosang.”

“Bye bye.”

He clicked off his phone and slid it into his pocket, nearly jumping out of his skin when none other than Choi Yeonjun was staring down at him with a corny smile. “Wooyoung’s making friends!”

“Would you keep it down?” Wooyoung hissed.

“Why, you don’t want people to know you’re making friends?” he asked with an innocent face. “I think it’s splendid.”

“I think you’re stupid and embarrassing.”

Yeonjun pouted, and Wooyoung couldn't help noticing just how much it resembled the one that Soobin always wore. It was stupid to get upset over that small thing- adopting mannerisms and expressions just /happened/ when you lived, worked, ate, and performed with a group of people. But it hurt that Yeonjun had Soobin's pout and no longer giggled like Wooyoung used to. It seemed that neither of them were laughing like that anymore. “That’s no way to treat your best friend. I hope you treat Yeosang nicer than that.”

He bit back the nasty response on the tip of his tongue, fighting the automatic denial that he’d formed a connection with somebody other than Yeonjun. He couldn’t make friends like that...he couldn’t let involuntary jealousy pull them apart or have his heart crushed when Yeosang decided that he wasn’t worth it. Friends were a pain in the ass.

But he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Yeosang and I aren’t friends.” It wouldn’t happen. It was infuriating.

“I’m happy for you, Wooyoung. I didn’t want to be the only person you liked forever, you know. I love you, and my schedule’s tearing me away from you. I know it hurts you just as much as it hurts me, so just...let yourself make friends. Let yourself be the bright bubbly person that I clicked with two years ago. Let him in.”

“You’re corny.”

“And you’re emotionally constipated. I’d rather be corny than abrasive.”

“I’m not abrasive!”

“See that- right there...abrasive.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and pouted. “Shut up.”

…

Wooyoung liked to think that words never hurt him, that he was an intimidating, unmatched force of passion and hard work. To an extent, he was. He couldn’t care less what somebody like skin-head had to say about him and he didn’t take the criticism of instructors to heart like Yeosang did...but that comment from Yeonjun struck him deep and left an ache in his chest.

“Yeosang?”

“Yeah?” he asked distractedly from where he was wiggling his pen in concentration.

“Do you think that I’m ‘abrasive’?”

Yeosang faltered, dropped his pen, and turned to him. “We’re supposed to be doing English homework, not contemplating our personalities.”

“So you think my personality is abrasive?”

“I think you’re putting words in my mouth,” Yeosang argued, throwing a foam ball at his head that Wooyoung didn’t have the energy to deflect. “What’s up with you?”

Wooyoung sighed. “I don’t think I’m happy anymore here.”

Yeosang waited for him to continue but took a deep breath when he didn’t, trying to form a response. “You’re just getting burnt out because you weren’t chosen to debut. Your time will come.”

“Maybe,” Wooyoung shrugged. He couldn’t look at Yeosang. The ceiling was a much more acceptable choice. “But I don’t know that it’ll come here, you know?”

“You want to change agencies?”

“I want a change,” he emphasized. “But I don’t even know where to begin. Yeonjun is doing what he wants to do with his life...hell, Yeonjun’s doing what I want to do with my life, and I’m jealous, Sang...really, I’m so jealous that every time I see him, I bite his head off, and he only tells me that he loves me and believes in me. I’m so abrasive.”

“You’re so frustrated,” Yeosang corrected. “So what if you want to change agencies? I say that if something’s really saying your name that you should respond. This feeling that you’re having shouldn’t go ignored. It’s why you’re so angsty right now.”

“I am not angsty.”

“This? Right here? Definition of angsty.”

“But I-”

“Nope, nope, not listening,” Yeosang cut him off, standing and grabbing his laptop, opening it and typing before pulling up an anime that they’d been watching together. “We’re going to watch anime and you’re going to think of companies that are better suited for you than Bighit. If it’s what you want, changing companies will be good for you.”

Then a thought hit Wooyoung. Yeosang wanted him to leave despite the fact that Wooyoung is his only friend and sole protector from skin-head and his associates. He can’t possibly leave with Yeosang fending for himself. “You should try making some other friends. I can’t be the only one who likes you anymore.”

He saw the way that Yeosang’s chest stuttered and the words ‘slow down’ were on the tip of his tongue, but this was different. It wasn’t asthma. It was pain. Jung Wooyoung, you absolute blithering moron-

“I like you, Wooyoung. I don’t need anybody else to like or be liked by if I’m with you, so shut your mouth and watch anime.”

Wooyoung wasn’t going to focus, he knew that much, but it was okay. It was okay because Yeosang had just said it.

“I like you, Wooyoung.”

Yeosang liked Wooyoung.

…

“Yeosang, would you just /slow down/ for once? Seriously, I can’t keep up if-”

“I can’t do this anymore,” he sobbed as Wooyoung closed the dorm door behind him. As soon as he heard the raw emotion behind that, he stopped, set both of their bags down by the door, and motioned for their other roommate- a younger trainee named Ryomin- to leave the dorm for a few minutes. He nodded and scampered from the couch and out of the room.

“Hey, slow down,” Wooyoung told him, holding his elbows and trying to lead him to the couch to sit. He fought Wooyoung's grasp, hands in his hair, and chest puffing in and out quicker than it was before. “Sang, seriously-”

“I can’t! You heard what he said- how, he- I...I’m- i’m going to be kicked out. I can’t- I’m no good. I can’t-”

He reached into the side pocket of Yeosang’s bag and held it up to his lips. “Big breath in,” he instructed as he puffed the medicine into his mouth. Yeosang held it for a moment before exhaling and digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. He fell onto the couch and let out a sob before choking on his inhale.

“One more for good measure,” Wooyoung said, giving him another puff. “Slow it down and tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t do this anymore, Wooyoung. I’ve been here for a year and I’m not getting better. There’s too many people- instructors and trainees- and I’m not getting any recognition unless it’s negative. He said it- you heard him. I haven’t shown enough improvement in the past year, so I’m wasting company money. They’re going to kick me.”

“Then leave. Let’s leave- both of us. We don’t need this place. It won’t bring us where we want to be, and it’s killing us. You don’t have to go where I go, but you need out just as much as I do.”

“I can’t do that.”

“...what? Why not?”

“Because I can’t /not/ go where you go, Wooyoung,” he exclaimed. “I like you.”

And Wooyoung had a feeling that he meant it in an entirely different way than the last time he’d spoken those words. He’d thought about the way it felt if he kissed Yeosang and immediately kicked himself for the thought. It wasn’t his right to think about him in that way, but maybe...maybe Yeosang felt it too.

He leaned forward, glancing up for permission, before pressing his lips to his. It was sweet and soft and everything that he’d thought of, even if it only lasted a moment. “I- are you okay?”

Yeosang chased his kiss before he could say anything more, pressing harder into the kiss and letting Wooyoung’s hands cup the back of his neck. He was the first to pull away, though, panting slightly. “Sorry, my lungs are…”

“Yeosang,” Wooyoung cut him off. “What...what does this mean?”

“It means that I’ll go anywhere you go, Wooyoung.”

…

They left. Together. 

And they met six new friends that turned into family and staff that always had a kind word to say about the two of them, even when Yeosang’s lungs would crap out on him during dance practice or he needed extra breaks when he was singing his parts. They made their debut and performed on stages. Wooyoung saw Yeonjun often enough to tell him about Yeosang and their newfound success.

“You seem happy, Wooyoung,” he murmured to him while they were standing together on a stage. 

Wooyoung grinned. “I am.” And it was the truth. His eyes crinkled when he smiled now. He laughed with an open mouth and a loud whoop of exhilaration. He had brothers and Yeosang and fans and actual music. He looked and felt better than he ever had. “Thank you for being there for me all that time, Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun smirked, glancing at Soobin, who was smiling down at them. Wooyoung’s best friend gestured to Yeosang’s smiling face as he examined the lights, hair falling softly over his birthmark and chocolate eyes. “I don’t think I’m the one you need to thank...He’s special, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung nodded, staring at the face that he was lucky to fall asleep to every night. “I have to agree.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and kudos if you'd like! :)


End file.
